Deployment (Fiction)
Alys "Deadeye" Stirn looked down at the world below. From the deck of the Saint Trevim, all the worlds that the 1st Resupply deployed to looked miniscule. She was still too low in rank to really need to have an understanding of the planet's geography, but she'd gotten on Cannis' good side, and the Colonel made sure that those who came to his attention got to preview their impending ascent through the chain of command. She was already in charge of the primary logistics unit, and if her captain did another thing to be brought before Cannis in shame she would be taking his place. She couldn't shake the feeling, though, the antsiness of deployment. The bad feeling that brewed in her gut across the sleepless nights of anticipation mixed with anguish. The drop craft had only been able to find one safe landing zone that they could reach, so their first mission would be to establish a beachhead. She hadn't thought to ask about the support they had available, because they probably didn't have any. "We can deploy from higher in orbit, use the dr—" Cannis cut off the ship's commander, his gruff and brash style throwing off the decorum of the elegantly decorated bridge. "I don't think you realize the risks that poses to my men. I appreciate that you do not wish to risk your ship, Admiral, Nobody would want to see Iochara's flagship broken up by anti-aerospace fire. However, my troops need to hit the ground in a cohesive unit. We've got soft-skinned trucks that can't hold their own in a fight. "We land the Saint Threvim at the edge of the desert. My outriders will clear a path for the regiment. I know that you wanted a piece of the action, Iounus, Today is not that day." The admiral looked flustered, but said nothing. Cannis was a living legend back home, revered across the whole planet of Iochara for his decisive actions in the Iocharan Civil War, where he single-handedly repelled a coup attempt on the planetary capital. Although his response was ruthless, he showed mercy to the survivors, and Iochara was united in no small part due to his charisma and the legitimacy he gave the loyalists. As the two men parted ways, Alys swore that she could feel the differences between them, watching their posture, intuiting their essences. Cannis was power, loyalty, and determination. The admiral, as skilled as he was, had never been forged in the flames of sacrifice like Cannis had. The colonel would win every fight until he came to a bridge he could not cross. She loved him for it. Cannis left the deck, and Stirn followed his example, heading to her quarters to rest until the next cycle began. They would need to be combat-ready as soon as their boots hit the ground, even if they were landing in an allied port. The world beneath them began to grow larger, imperceptibly at first, as the deck shifted beneath her feet. They were waiting in the deployment bay, away from the viewports and displays, but she could still see the picture in her mind, projecting it into the space in her mind that existed beyond the gunmetal walls of the Saint Trevim's massive structure. She remembered what it felt like to go back into a gravity well, even after the fairly well-maintained systems like those of the flagship. She fantasized that she could feel herself getting heavier, see her truck, waiting for its driver, sag in a way that only one so intimately familiar with it would know what had happened. Landfall happened quicker than she knew it would. She had been on orbital deployments before, but each world had its own conditions. The blue light of day crept through the cracks in the bay doors, and she climbed into the seat of the truck. With a hum, the vehicle welcomed its driver back, the noise a song of joy to her heart. Stirn put her foot on the gas pedal. "All right, let's get the noise going," The other trucks called back to her in unison, and she thumbed a switch on her radio so it would also notify the outriders. "We're making a forward base."